Short post tonight, ya'll.
Getting back into the swing of things is taking more time than I thought. No worries; I'm simply starting off slow. I went to two (count 'em), TWO baby showers this weekend! I have some super fertile friends and I cannot wait to meet Mr. Dr. and Mrs. Dr. Gilmore and Ms. Bella Rose Palado! (BTW, I smoked everyone at the Palado shower by knowing the second-to-most baby names of animals of anyone in the room. Know what a baby swan is called? Call me. I'll give you the 4-1-1.)
Friday night at happy hour the ever-exuberant Marty Mason spilled a freshly cracked beer all over Amanda, Mr. Smith and Mr. Smith's iPhone, Phoney McRing-Ring. So much beer went everywhere, management brought us one of these:
marty, you're just so exuberant
The next night, the ever-exuberant Marty spilled a freshly poured glass of wine all over the island at the Mower's house.
you should invest in tide pens
The next day, I went to visit my Dipsey Doodle while he peddled books at a craft fair in the Jacob Building on the fairgrounds. On his table, in addition to his collection of literature, he had this. Know what it is, anyone? Anyone, anyone?
it's a turkey beard mounted in the shotgun shell that killed said turkey, with his spurs hanging off the cord embedded where the cap once was. ladies, he's taken. mama says that any judge in america would take this or the snake skin he had mounted for his office as grounds for divorce.
Today, I got to live a life of leisure - nice run in the AM, brunch with friends, baby shower, then back home to find Mr. Smith had cleaned the whole house, gone to the grocery store, done yard work, started laundry and supper. (Ladies, he's mine.) Of course, I did also find this:
he's a heavy-handed duster. at least he's thorough.
No worries though - we were about to eat our supper when there was a knock at the door. It was my father who was wrapping up three days at the afore-mentioned craft fair. He'd gotten there before it opened this morning and had time to peruse a tag sale nearby and what in the world do you suppose he found?
"pipey" claus! it's a pipe with a santa claus on the front smoking a pipe! i realize the un-pc and unhealthy implications of this particular claus but i love it! he paid $1 for it; a totes steal.
Lastly, I give you two more images of the Father Christmas variety:
this came from hilton head a few years ago when mr. smith and i were there celebrating our 10th anniversary! ha, ha! he's buried in sand!
i name just about every santa in my collection, but sometimes they warrant filing into a genre, not a specific name. this genre of clauses i call "decapi-" clauses.
*Note To Self* allow me to tally the awesome things in my life: great husband, great friends, great family, great job, great hometown and I get to enjoy any and all aspects of aforementioned awesome things whenever I want. It's official. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
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